CHANGING THE PLAYER: Charleston Pirates #1 by Chance, Jacob (digital e reader TXT) 📕

strong, I can already feel it relaxing me from the inside out.

“You better slow down there, Nadia, or you’ll be the one who drinks too much tonight,” Flynn jests.

“I’m not sure there’s enough alcohol to get me through this dinner, but this is a great start.” I raise my glass and clink it against his. “Here’s to many more of this delicious concoction.” I suck the remaining liquid from the glass, making a slurping sound.

Flynn laughs. “Maybe you better eat something before you have another. Although, if you get wild and crazy, it’ll make me look well behaved.”

“No way, Shaughnessy. Just because I drank that so fast doesn’t mean I’ll keep going. I’m great at setting limits and sticking to them.”

“You better be since we know I’m not. Although, I have to say that being here with you makes me want to misbehave in a different way.” His eyebrows jump up and down on his forehead. “That dress is smokin’ hot.”

“Thank you, I guess,” I say.

“No. Thank you. It’s a pleasure having you by my side.”

He falls silent as a group of people approach. Once they’re next to our table, he stands, shaking hands and slapping backs. Catching hold of my arm, he assists me to my feet. Not that I need help, he’s just in boyfriend mode. Until tonight, I wasn’t even sure he’d know how guys in relationships should act, but so far he’s managing well.

I say hi to his teammates, Darren and Levi, who also happen to be clients of mine. Flynn introduces me to a couple more players from the Pirates and their dates.

Everyone settles around the table and one of the servers delivers glasses of water while another sets down plates of appetizers.

Flynn grabs one of the small plates and asks, “What do you like?”

“I’ll eat anything.”

“Oh, baby, don’t tease me,” he says, altering his voice and his facial expression into an ultra macho but cheesy mash-up. I don’t know why it strikes me as so amusing, but it does, and a laugh slips out. And then another. When I try to stifle them, I go into full on giggles, his deep laughter accompanying my trilling one. I’m blaming the beverage I had, but it’s most likely a combination of alcohol, nerves, stress, and Flynn’s silliness.

After I regain control, I wipe the tears from my eyes and look up to find everyone seated at our table watching us. “Sorry,” I murmur. “Flynn made me laugh.”

“We forgot we weren’t alone,” he replies, as if it happens all the time. He sets a heaping plate full of appetizers down in front of me.

“Thank you, but this is way too much for me.”

“I figured we can share,” he explains, spearing a stuffed mushroom with his fork and eating it in one bite.

Reflexively, I watch his every move. I’ve never been jealous of fungi before, but as the saying goes, there’s a first time for everything.

I have a feeling I’ll be doing a lot of new things with Flynn. My staid and unadventurous lifestyle isn’t the way he’s used to operating. While we’re spending time together, I’m going to need to compromise and meet him in the middle, which may very well be terrifying for me.

Tearing my gaze away from his all too handsome visage, I pick up the correct fork and try one of the mushrooms. At least if I focus on eating, I won’t be paying attention to Flynn or worrying about who’s watching us.

7

Flynn

So far, Nadia’s managing our fake relationship act like a champ. I know it’s only the first time we’ve been out together in public, but it seems like we’re off to a pretty good start. She didn’t balk at holding my hand, and we’ve made it through dinner without sending up any red flags.

“Are you guys dating?” Levi asks when our plates have barely been cleared away. Nadia’s eyes show a brief flicker of panic before she masks her concern.

Wrapping my arm around her, I lean in close and smile. “We are.”

“I figured you were off-limits, being our agent and all,” he continues.

“She is off-limits to you,” I tell him.

He smirks. “But not to you?”

“Exactly,” I agree with a nod. “I’m glad you understand.”

“Well, you’re a lucky bastard, as usual,” he says.

I tighten my hold on Nadia, pulling her closer. “I know I am.” And boy do I mean it. I’m so fortunate Nadia is doing this favor for me. I’d probably be fumbling this fundraiser if she wasn’t with me. Undoubtedly I’d have been imbibing too much alcohol and acting like a fool. It’s somewhat embarrassing to think about, but not enough so that I’d behave if she wasn’t with me. I’ve got issues, and for now, Nadia is my saving grace.

The band has stopped playing their slow, instrumental dinner music and have now moved on to some more well known, although not current, songs. Couples start to fill the dance floor, and I observe Nadia tapping her foot to the catchy beat.

Catching hold of her hand, I rise and draw her to her feet. “Let’s go show them how it’s done.” I don’t give her an opportunity to disagree or argue. I lead her to the front of the room and turn to face her, sliding my palm across her lower back. Her hand feels comfortable in mine and she fits against me better than I imagined. Swaying to the song, we join the rest of the dancing couples. Softly humming the tune, “It Had to Be You,” a small smile plays on her lips.

“Are you a Sinatra fan?” I ask.

“Isn’t everyone?”

“I guess I’ve never thought about it, but you’re probably right. It’s hard to dislike that era of music.”

“My dad’s a big fan of his music.”

“What’s he like?” I ask.

“My dad?”

“No, Frank Sinatra,” I jest.

She sticks her tongue out. “Whatever. My dad was born and raised in India. He moved to the States when he was in college, met my mom, and he’s been here